The Walking Dead, Daryl DixonOC
by always-open
Summary: story of Kat and how she fits into the (beginning of season 4) prison group.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

She looked down again, breathing steadily as she watched the man walk slowly along the forest floor. He trod carefully so as not to make a sound, pushing aside the foliage with his left hand, crossbow balanced in his right. The woman half-crawled until she was laying on a branch directly above him.

Her shoe scraped at the bark of the tree.

in the silence of the forest it sounded like a gunshot. She winced. The man stopped walking. He lifted is crossbow to his eye and quickly looked around.

It was obvious he was a hunter, and no idiot.

There was no sound as he walked, each step placed carefully amongst the dead leaves.

She admired that. At least she wouldn't have to watch him being torn apart by the undead. Kat may have taught herself to be indifferent to what happened to strangers to stay alive, but she did still have a heart. She might not have been able to stop herself from going down there if things did take a turn for the worse, which, in Kat's experience, things often did. a heart will get you killed. she thought. Kat squeezed her eyes closed and bit her bottom lip hard to push the though out of her mind. there'll be time for that crap later she told herself. just follow this guy and maybe find something to eat and drink. The last thing she'd had eaten was a squirrel a couple of days ago. she'd been drinking the dew off leaves for water.

The man had continued to walk however, so Kat followed. She hadn't been in this place for long. this guy might have some mates, and some food. he certainly looks healthy enough to me.. maybe he's with the people in the prison..

he was in his late 20's, going on what Kat had seen of him (which was mainly his back and the top of his head.) he had cotton shirt on with the sleeves ripped off, showing his impressive biceps. a dozen or so squirrels were strung over his shoulder.

Looks like he was a half decent hunter after all. he had jeans on that looked like they'd lead a hard life, but were reasonably clean. They'd been washed recently. So he did have a camp around. He was still dirty however, but not anywhere as dirty as Kat was. She couldn't remember what a shower felt like. still wearing what she had on the day she'd had gone to the airport, she wasn't sure how long ago that was, but it was more that a couple of months. her once white singlet was a muddy brown and she was pretty sure the dirt was the only thing holding her black overcoat together. The pockets still worked though, and did well to carry her collection of knives and other sharp objects she had acquired over the time she'd been alone. The knives were handy to have, but she would be dead without her bow. it was sitting crossways over her body, the bowstring nestled between her breasts, the limb over her back. she felt naked without it. the arrows were in her makeshift quiver over her shoulder. it was nothing special, not a fancy modern bow made of carbon fibre like an olympic archer used. just plain, traditional willow, but it had kept her alive for what seemed like an age.

The branch she was on was getting a bit too thin for her liking so she balanced herself and landed lightly on a thicker one from the next tree. she walked steadily until she came to the trunk where she began to crawl onwards. The man was still ahead of her by a dozen paces or so. She was still following when he froze. his body tense. she had heard it too. That sickening sound she had come to hate and fear. the sound that meant death. a gurgling hiss, like someone choking on bleach. shit.

"shit" she heard the guy swear under his breath. that made her smile. Kat didn't remember the last time she smiled.

she sucked in her breath. the man wasted no time. he ran silently back so he was behind the tree she was perched in.

too close.

what seemed like a deafening combination of heavy, uneven footsteps and moaning broke through the wall of vegetation about 10 metres ahead of them. no, not them. him and her. this guy was none of her business. he wasn't her responsibility. it was no skin off her nose if he died. she wasn't going to put herself on the line to save his sorry ass.

the moaning and grunting mess of rotting flesh was getting closer however. how did they know where he was? Kat looked up. The branches of the oak tree were swaying gently over head. the only gentle thing left in this world. the breeze. it was a damn fluke but they must have caught a whiff of them somehow. oh well, his problem now.

where there had once been three of the walkers there was now seven, and more were appearing out of the undergrowth. some were wearing overalls like the ones mechanics wear, some were wearing suits and ties, dresses, jeans and t-shirts. Kat even saw one pizza delivery guy.

This guy's fucked. she looked down at him. he was crouching behind the tree, evidently thinking the very same thing. he pulled out a hunting knife that was as long as her forearm. i can't just leave him there… she dropped down onto a lower branch so she was only just above his head.

C'mon mate, you better start running now..

the guy stepped out from behind the tree and raised his crossbow to his eye. an bolt went flying towards the wave of stumbling corpses so fast she barely saw it. it found its mark neatly between the eyes of the first walker of the group. he had loaded another before she had time to move. by the time it was leaving his bow, she was knocking an arrow to her own. they took down a walker each.

for a split second the guy didn't know what to do. his head shot around so fast Kat thought he was going to break his neck.

fuck it, she thought as she dropped down next to him, and pulled another arrow from her quiver.

"What the 'ell?"

"How's it going?" Kat said as casually as she could. She released her bowstring.

He stared at her wide eyed for half a second then seemed to remember what he was doing. they each shot another corpse until the hoard was too close for arrows to be any use. Kat swung her bow across her back and took out her biggest knife. it looked like nothing more than a letter opener next to the other man's machete sized blade. she dashed forward to meet what used to be a middle aged woman in a pink blouse and shorts. she shoved her knife through the thing's forehead and pushed it's chest to help retrieve her weapon.

a quick glance told her the guy was getting busy too, but she didn't stop to look how he was doing. a tall skinny thing ran at her clumsily and she dealt with it the same way as the other. after that, The walkers quickly stopped being "former people" and started to become places to put her knife.

The group was getting smaller as the two strangers stabbed and slashed their way through the pack. She pushed her knife into what seemed like the thousandth head, but when she tried to jerk it free it stuck steadfastly in place. with a grunt, Kat tried to pull again with both hands but was taken by surprise when she was brought down onto her back under a crushing weight.

The thing was on top of her snapping and clawing at her throat. she reached for her knife but it was still stuck in the skull. she couldn't get her hands to her pockets for her other knives. it was all she could do to hold the thing's head to stop it from biting her.

all of a sudden, it went limp. it's head flopped down onto her face. She couldn't move under its dead weight, and the rancid smell of it was making her feel like vomiting up the little she had in her stomach.

a grunt was followed by a welcome breath of fresh air, and the man came into Kat's vision, leaning over her. It looked like he'd cleaned up the rest of the walkers. he extended a hand. she took it.

as he pulled her up she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small kitchen knife. she swiftly lifted it to the mans throat. She was planning on saying something like "move and I will kill you" but she felt cold steel against her own neck. now at a stale mate, she found herself staring into his eyes. she studied his face.

her guess on his age was pretty much right, late 20's. he was covered in sweat and black blood was sprayed across his face, but he was attractive in a rough kind of way. he had a beard on the bottom of his chin, and he looked like he had needed a haircut for some time.

he wore the face of a survivor with bags under his eyes from a lack or complete absence of sleep, and what seemed to be a permanent grimace.

she gave a sly smile. His lip twitched and pulled up into a grin.

"Sorry about this" Kat sighed in a apologetic tone, "you just can't be too careful these days" she didn't withdraw the knife.

the man stared at her. his eyes never leaving hers

"agreed"

"What's your name then?"

"What's your's?"

Kat gave in.

"Katrina. people call me Kat."

"I won't be calling you anything if you cut my throat out,"

Kat looked at him steadily. she did't trust him at all, but they couldn't stay like this forever. she lowered her knife, and after giving him a look that could kill, he lowered his.

"I'm Daryl." his accent was southern.

Daryl didn't make any other attempt to say anything. They continued to stare at each other, almost as hostile as before.

"You got a camp around here?" asked Kat with no emotion in her voice. She wasn't sure how to play this. she couldn't exactly go for the innocent girl, lost and in need of help anymore.

"Why should i tell you?" he said just as coldly.

"Maybe because i just saved your ass you ungrateful piece of—"

He interrupted her

"—No ya didn't. I was doing just fine before you came along! Hold on what'd you just call me?"

"You weren't doing just fine though, were you? you would be screwed if it wasn't for me!"

"I could say the same for you"

who is this guy? thought Kat

"Look, Daryl is it? are you with the people in the prison?" Kat had been seen the camp from a distance yesterday. it looked like a pretty good place to be. high wire fences to keep prisoners in would do a pretty good job of keeping walkers out.

"I might be" Daryl looked at her suspiciously "I'm guessing you wanna be my best friend now?"

"Look i saw the people inside, how many of you are there? 20? 30? You must be taking new people in. Why not take me? I can fight, i'll do what ever you want me to, just let me—" Kat staggered. she dropped her knife. for a second she looked at her hand and wondered how it had happened. she looked back at Daryl. he was looking at her calmly, with the slightest bit of confusion in his eyes. He even looked… worried. Everything was going out of focus and there were black spots appearing in front of her eyes. the last thing she saw was Daryl reaching out to catch her before she fell.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

After retrieving his crossbow bolts and the girls arrows and knife, Daryl went over to her where he'd lay her against a tree and looked at her. She must've been exhausted, he thought. she doesn't look like she's eaten in months.

she was skinny. too skinny. i guess everybody is these days, he thought to himself. Kat looked to have been about 25. she was wearing a black over coat and a shirt that had just about rotted onto her skin, with black jeans tucked inside army boots that came just above her ankles. a simple, traditional bow was slung across her back and over her chest. She had greasy hair that framed her face, which was not pretty in a girlish sort of way, but she did have striking features; high cheekbones, full lips and eyes with eyelashes that would never need mascara. not that she seemed like the sort of person that would wear mascara anyway.

Hell what was he talking about, he didn't know her at all.

Daryl knelt and went through her pockets. he found four knives of varying size, a ball of string, a box of matches with only three unused sticks left, a plastic cup and a piece of twisted metal that ended in a wickedly dangerous looking point. he eased the bow off her shoulders, feeling strangely embarrassed when he touched her chest.

After he was sure she couldn't wake up and stab him, he hoisted her over his shoulders in a fireman's carry. she was unbelievably light.

"Whadaya been living on girl? leaves?" he muttered as he started walking towards the prison.

Rick spotted him from one of the watch towers and Carl opened the gates.

"you alright?" called out Carl.

"It's not me you should be worried about. Run, get Hershel."

"Is she bit?" asked Carl anxiously

"No, she's awright, just get Hershel."

Daryl adjusted Kat's position on his shoulders and continued to walk up to C Block. He was worried, she hadn't stirred the whole walk home.

By then Rick had caught up to him.

"Who is she?" Rick said breathlessly.

"I dunno, we were talking, she collapsed." Daryl didn't really feel the urge to tell Rick how he was rescued by a girl, not right now anyway. He'd do that later.

"I jus' wanna getter' to Hershel. She probably needs a good meal." Kat wasn't heavy but Daryl had carried her for the last hour, and he was getting tired.

"Okay, let me carry her" Rick stretched out his arms " you look exhausted"

"No!" Daryl said pulling away. He wasn't sure why he raised his voice. "No, i can do it."

"Alright then." Rick gave him a look and walked with him up the cell block.

Daryl carried her up to the infirmary where he lay her down on one of the stretchers. He stood by anxiously while Hershel and Beth checked her over.

"Is she alright?" he asked, sounding much more concerned than he wanted to sound.

"She looks fine to me, Daryl. Not much to worry about." said Hershel while he took his stethoscope out of his ears. "Just dehydrated and very hungry. Her shoulder has been sprained for a while, but we can fix that. We'll give her an IV to get some water into her. You go have something to eat. We'll take good care of her, don't worry."

Beth gave him a reassuring smile.

Daryl desperately wanted to stay, but he didn't want anyone thinking that she meant something to him. He reluctantly walked away with one last look over his shoulder.

Dinner was just being served. and he was hungry.

Daryl grabbed his bowl of stew as fast as he could so he wouldn't have to talk to anyone. dropping off the squirrels he'd shot earlier that day in the kitchen, he carried his dinner out into the field so he could be alone.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Kat woke up and dozed for a couple of seconds until the events of what happened earlier came back to her. her eyes ripped open and she sat up quick as lightning. she didn't get any further than that. the whole world was sliding all over the place and she felt like she had the worst hangover of all time. There were tubes on her arms and she had unfamiliar clothes on.

Hands were pushing her gently back down into the warmth of her bed. she gave in and flopped back weakly.

The second time she woke up she didn't make the same mistake. she opened her eyes slowly, and rolled over. The room she was in was dark. the walls were painted grey like they'd been designed to look horrible, and as she looked around, she saw there were bars on the door.

Kat had a sudden wave of panic until she remembered; The Prison.

"hello." a voice said. it was a man's, but it wasn't that guy's. Daryl was his name she remembered.

Kat tried to sit up.

"Oops, easy does it." gently, hands pulled her up into a sitting position.

The light headedness was less this time. Kat felt a little stronger, and not so pathetic.

"How are you?" asked the voice.

Kat looked around to see an older man with a white beard and hair.

"Good. good i think…" she wasn't sure exactly how good she was. "where's my bow? My knives?" her hands felt around underneath the blankets and found nothing.

"you can have those back when you're feeling better, don't worry." said the old man. "I'm Hershel."

"I'm Kat." said Kat. "Where's Daryl?" She didn't know why she was asking the man, but it seemed like the next most important thing to her bow.

"He's down stairs. I'll go get him in a second." Hershel seemed like a fairly straight forward guy. He had an open face, creased with smile lines. "Don't tell him i said this, but i think he'll be very happy to see you."

He'll be the first person happy to see me in a long time. Kat thought.

"I'll just go get Rick too. you can talk to him." Hershel got up and walked out of the room.

Kat noticed he locked the door behind him.

Daryl was in the room with in seconds. she realised he must've been waiting outside.

"Are you gonna thank me yet?" asked Kat with a smile.

Daryl looked at his feet and when he looked up, he had a smile on his face.

"I got nothin' to thank you for."

They sat in silence until Hershel returned with Rick.

Rick was medium height with dark hair pushed back from his face. he had a worried expression, but an air of confidence. Kat guessed he was the unspoken leader.

"So, Kat is it?"

Kat nodded.

"I'm Rick Grimes."

"nice to meet you" said Kat, a little gruffly.

"Daryl told me you want to join us."

"Thats right, but if you don't want me here, i understand." said Kat. She was coming to terms with the fact she might be out of her own again.

Rick laughed "oh, no, don't worry. Daryl managed to convince me to at least consider taking you in. he can be pretty persuasive when he wants something."

Kat smiled uncertainly and threw a sideways glance at Daryl. He was leaning against a wall looking at his feet.

"but," said Rick, sitting down in a chair next to her bed, "i need to ask you a couple of questions first."

"go for it"

"How many of the corpses have you killed?

"I lost count."

"How many people have you killed?"

Kat tensed up. "I don't kill people. only the ones that are already dead. Is that what you do here? Kill people?"

Rick gave her a measured look.

"Only the ones that try and kill us. You ain't got nothin' to worry about." Daryl said, looking up from the ground straight into her eyes. She believed him, just like that.

"you can stay here for now at least, Kat. " said Rick as he got up to leave.

"Thankyou." Said Kat, although she said it more to Daryl that she did to Rick.


End file.
